Months After World War II, Revenge as a Dish Served Hot and Crusty

When it comes to acts of murderous vengeance, bread baking cannot compete with scalp collecting in terms of lurid allure. On the other hand, the toxic loaves that figure in Daniel Goldfarb’s play “The Retributionists” can lay claim to some factual history, in contrast to the bloody deeds visited upon nasty Nazi bigwigs in Quentin Tarantino’s pop action movie “Inglourious Basterds.”

Both film and play tell tales of Jews seeking to wreak some fatal revenge for the mass murders of their people during World War II. Unlike Mr. Tarantino’s cheeky fantasy, Mr. Goldfarb’s drama, which opened Monday night at Playwrights Horizons, was inspired by the true story of the poisoning of more than 2,000 Germans being held for war-crimes trials. Bottles of arsenic and a certain “Polish displaced person” were described in news reports at the time. Mr. Goldfarb’s fictionalized version fills in the back story, depicting the relationships among four traumatized survivors of the Holocaust plotting to put into action a scheme to slaughter Germans.

Mr. Goldfarb seems to sense that this kernel of historical material will not suffice for a stageworthy evening. To supplement the story of the killer bread he supplies two overlapping romantic triangles. Unfortunately even this extra dose of yeast does not do much to improve the dramatic recipe of “The Retributionists.” As both a historical inquiry into the ethics of the “eye for an eye” brand of justice and a romantic melodrama, the play is a boring bust.

A reunion in a seedy Paris hotel room finds Anika Stoller (Margarita Levieva) and Jascha Pinsker (Adam Rothenberg) arguing about both the past and the future. Former lovers who have not met in a year, they are brought together at the behest of Dov Kaplinsky (Adam Driver), to whom Anika is now engaged.

During the war the charismatic Dov inspired a small band of Jews, including Anika and Jascha, to escape from an unnamed ghetto. Living in the woods they committed small acts of sabotage against the German Army. Now Dov is marshaling his troops for a larger scheme. As Anika brusquely tells Jascha, while fending off his sullen barbs about their romantic past, his participation is crucial to the backup plan Dov has in mind if a more ambitious plot fails.

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Margarita Levieva and Adam Rothenberg as former lovers in the Playwrights Horizons production of The Retributionists, written by Daniel Goldfarb.Credit...Joan Marcus

Meanwhile, on a train speeding toward Germany, Dov is putting the moves on Dinchka Fried (Cristin Milioti), his lover during the war years. Despite the suitcase full of cyanide in the luggage rack, Dov seems far more interested in rekindling his romance than in making an ethical case for his plan to poison millions of Germans, which the more sensitive Dinchka has come to doubt. “You’re the one I love,” he vows. “You’re the one I’ve always loved.”

Similarly formulaic soap opera dialogue fills far too much of Mr. Goldfarb’s play, which has been directed with minimal fuss but little apparent conviction by Leigh Silverman. “I can’t get you out of my system, Anika,” Jascha says. “I still love you.” In between the romantic tussling the characters do manage to engage in a few debates about the morality of Dov’s murderous plan. But these do not plumb any great philosophical depths and are quickly dispatched, so the heavy-breathing exchanges about who really loves whom can continue. To spice up the romantic complications still further Mr. Goldfarb even tosses in a bizarre, passionate kiss between the two women.

The cliché-ridden dialogue and some uncomfortably inept acting increase the general air of factitiousness. Ms. Levieva, a strong-featured beauty who resembles Angelina Jolie, is burdened with some of the more hotly histrionic dialogue. Still, a more seasoned stage actor might have tamped down at least a little of the clunkiness; Ms. Levieva’s blunt performance accentuates it.

Ms. Milioti is marginally better as Dinchka, supplying the character with a wounded-bird quality that makes her the only vaguely affecting presence in the play. Mr. Rothenberg scowls effectively as the resentful Jascha, who is ultimately manipulated into posing as a baker at the prison in Nuremberg to put Dov’s plan into effect. Mr. Driver has his fervent moments as Dov, but we don’t really get a sense of the character’s visionary speech-making capabilities or the cold fixation on retribution that inspires him to plot the murder of millions.

Mostly he seems like a confused womanizer willing to say anything to get the girl in the hotel room or the train compartment to comply with his sexual desires. I’m all for avoiding the sanctifying impulse when it comes to depicting fictional survivors of the Holocaust, but it is not really an improvement to find them making like horny teenagers from the “American Pie” movies.